Chatting....

While Tammy was sipping her coffee, she read her latest copy of a parenting magazine. The editors made it sound so easy. They had to keep telling their story with such good advice, so mothers like Tammy could avoid any dreadful, unsavory consequences.

Tammy did not want to be a rotten mother. She was waiting for her fifteen year old daughter, Talissa, to emerge from her bedroom. Talissa spent most of her day hiding, 'doing stuff'.

Tammy wondered what Talissa's stuff entailed. Being the mother, she was supposed to be worried about vaping and doping, if not chroming. Maybe it was only normal teenage drowsiness, too many hours spent texting in the night.

Tammy kept reading her magazine, wondering if this sage, but helpful advice, was even effective. Was it even apt, for the current world? She was reading about mother/daughter conversations, with inspiring topics to start teens off to chat openly about their concerns with their mothers. Talissa surfaced about 12 noon, slightly rumpled, it was holidays after all. She consumed a bowl of cereal. Tammy now only had to feed her daughter two meals per day, plus snacks, of course.

Talissa moaned, "Why don't I grow big boobs?' Tammy's maternal instincts swung into play. "You've got a lovely figure. Give yourself time." "Duh," said Talissa, sulking over her lack of ruby lips and shapely hips, as she went heading off to the TV den. Tammy pondered on that mother/daughter chat. Was she being too protective, or even excessively gushy? Mother Nature worked in mysterious ways.

Tammy pondered back on her teenage years. She had definitely not been a angel. That was where Talissa had emerged into the world. Tammy herself at a similar age had done her fair share of skirt flouncing and door slamming. It seemed like only yesterday. She could recall her grandmother, telling her to sit straight to do her homework, and zip her lip. Tammy wondered if the adults in her life had been tougher then. She passed by the mirror, checking for grey hairs, definitely there. All was quiet on the home front.

Suddenly, Tammy heard a shriek of delight from Talissa. "Dare I ask? " thought Tammy. "Okay in there?' she queried. Talissa appeared. "Oh my God, Josh asked me for a date on Saturday night. Can you drive me?" Talissa was smiling for the first time since puberty. Tammy consulted her parenting magazine. Perhaps she could provide Talissa with the chat about handling sexual harassment from teenage males. What to say to start up such a sensitive conversation? "Duh," Talissa said, reading over her mother's shoulder. Scornfully, she commented, "I need new jeans."

Tammy's heart sank. Gone were the days when she chose her beloved daughter's clothing. Where had her adorable baby gone, adorned in those cute dresses? These days, Tammy was always the one sitting on the chair next to the change room, where every female's butt looked fat in everything. That ran in the family. Tammy was now feeling sheer terror for the ensuing mother/daughter conversations under those bright fluorescent lights.

Still, it was time for teenagers to overcome their stereotypes, and be allocated more freedoms. Saturday night came too soon. Tammy sat in the television room. For once, she had control of the remote. Unfortunately, date night for Talissa finished early.

Talissa came home in a taxi at 10pm, slamming the front door vigorously. Tammy hovered, ready to chat about feelings and the perils of being a teenager. She waited in silence, expecting tears and tantrums, not game to ask what had gone wrong for love's young dreams. "I beat Josh at pool, so he dumped me for Bianca. .Jerk. I am never going to talk to either of them again!" Talissa yelled. This was life-threatening teenage drama mama time.

"I agree," Tammy said, hesitantly, "but you have to realize that men get very offended when women win at pool. It is the worst sin against their male egos. Despite inclusion and equity, it is a man's world after all." Talissa fumed. "I'm not going to let men beat me at anything." What would the parenting magazine advise here? Tammy looked bemused.

Tammy's refrigerator contained a universal cure. She produced a large bucket of Talissa's favorite ice-cream. Talissa ate a big bowl of ice-cream, rapidly recovering from her broken heart. Tammy dared to offer her relationship coaching. "Josh is obviously too immature for a great chick like you. He has probably got a limp dick, and no taste at all." Talissa suddenly laughed, seeing the funny side of her disastrous evening.

She finished her ice cream, and announced, "I cannot believe you said that. I am going to be a female footballer, and buy sperm online when I want kids." A puff of logic had appeared, "Great," muttered Tammy, thinking about her grand kids on demand. Talissa was on a roll here. "By the way, Mum, I am turning sixteen on Monday, look!"

From her gigantic, trendy bag, Talissa produced L-plates. Every age is unique, the parenting magazine offered. This was couselling for the parents of teenagers who can now drive their parent's wheels. Tammy guessed that this might be as bad as vaping. At least it,was not cocaine, or was that a 'not yet'?

"Great," sighed Tammy again. Finally, it had arrived. The day she had been dreading. True fear was clutching at her motherly heart. She had to supervise Talissa's driving practice sessions. Realistic doubts about being a single mother set in again.

Monday dawned. Talissa emerged again at 12 noon, ready for her new age. "Mum, can you take me for driving lessons?' Tammy eyed off her dwindling bottle of Valium. It was really good stuff as mother's little helpers. She secretly popped another little lolly from the bottle, finding it in her own large bag.

"Talissa, the aim of driving is to arrive home in one piece," Tammy reluctantly handed over her car keys to her daughter, after that chat. "Duh!" said Talissa, "That was our mother/daughter conversation, " thought Tammy. She hoped positive prayers were really effective. She could not shut her eyes, there were real trucks and other unsuspecting motorists on this road. She wondered if she should suggest that Talissa slow down.

No, no go slow here. Talissa put pedal to the metal on the freeways of life, no longer anyone's little girl. This was definitely not the time for chatting, despite the magazine's advice.